The Hugh Neutron Show
by soulful-sin
Summary: [AU] Instead of catching Jimmy at the end of Make Room for DaddyO, Hugh let his son plummet. But he's a rock star. That shouldn't have affected anything, right?


Author's Note: This is an alternate (darker) ending to "Make Room for Daddy-O". The style is intentional, so don't mouth off about how it's in second person.

Jimmy Neutron belongs to John A. Davis.

The Hugh Neutron Show

"Dad, help, it's me, Jimmy!"

You don't need him...you never needed him. All he does is pull you down.

"Dad, c'mon! It's your son, Jimmy!"

His fingers grip the manifold and part of your heart breaks. But it's replaced by the 'cool Hugh' and you turn your back on the swinging boy, balancing for his life. You have a show to put on. There's no time or place for a whining little brat.

"Dad, listen to me! DAD!"

He screams your title, but what does it matter? If you save him, your career's finished. No one cool would bother to take time out of their busy life to rescue one stupid boy. If he's stuck up there, it's his fault. Not yours.

"All right guys," he whispers into his watch. "One, two, three...now!"

And he releases the manifold. You wonder idly if he's crazy or just stupid. In the back of your mind, you know that he's your son and you should be doing something. But you don't. You watch him tumble headfirst into the stage and his sapphire eyes widen. The instant before he dies, he realizes that his friends and family have failed him. The brilliant Jimmy Neutron has succumbed to his own gullibility.

It's only after the fact, after the paramedics come and pronounce him dead, that you realize that maybe stardom isn't everything. But it's too late to save him. His neck twisted when he fell. And the beautiful sapphire eyes that captivated you when he was born are faded and lifeless.

Carl and Sheen are crying because it's their fault. But you know it's equally yours. But instead of caring, you offer a few words and walk off. Because this is the Hugh Neutron show. And there's no room for some whining kid. Even if that kid was your son.

* * *

You're cool. You know it. So why do you feel so hollow inside? Why is it when you think about the life you left behind and more importantly, the remnants of the Neutrons, your heart wrenches? Why do you wonder whether you should have leapt forward and saved your son from certain death? 

Maybe it's the look on Judy's face after she finds out how Jimmy died. Maybe it's her sobs, renting the air and piercing the night. Maybe it's because it's partly your fault your wife has lost her only child.

Maybe it's the rushed funeral you barely attended and seeing Judy's ambivalence, part hatred and part despair, written plainly across her face. Maybe it was her anguished screams as it fully hit her that Jimmy's never coming back. Maybe it's more than that.

Maybe it's the look on Cindy's face when she found out that her rival/secret crush died. Maybe it's the guilt Sheen and Carl now carry and the awareness Jimmy obviously trusted them to save him but they never did. Maybe it's the fact you turned your back on Retroville to tour and all you can think about is Jimmy.

Fangirls shriek and rupture eardrums, but they don't remove the guilt nestled deep within your soul. The knowledge that if you had cared a little less about yourself and a little more about your offspring, that none of this would have happened. But look, you've got your tour. What do you care? If Jimmy hadn't died, you wouldn't be here. You wouldn't be standing in a coliseum with twenty thousand girls chanting your name. And that's better than ducks, isn't it?

You sing your heart out, but there isn't much left, is there? And you flinch whenever someone uses the word "genius" or a name that resembles Jimmy's. But you won't succumb to it. Because that Hugh's dead. You know it. And Jimmy's dead too. Let the past be the past and nothing more.

But you can't. Because it's all around you. If this is the Hugh Neutron show, why does Jimmy Neutron keep cropping up? Why won't he leave you alone? Why do you dream about him? Why do you hear his cries whenever you stop singing, stop talking, and stop everything?

"I want a divorce," Judy announces one day nearly six months after Jimmy's death. And you grant it without a second thought. You don't need her. You don't need anyone. It's better for your image if you're single.

So you grant her that wish. And you find yourself in Retroville once more. You walk on Jimmy's grave. And don't pause for a second.

Because this is the Hugh Neutron show. Not the "save me, Dad, I'm slipping" show.

* * *

It's been two years since Jimmy's death. You think about him constantly, but it never distracts you from the life you've created. You see Jimmy and Judy everywhere, but you spit on their images. And they disappear for a little while. But you're never satisfied. 

You drink more than you should. You drink to forget. You drink to stop seeing Jimmy and hearing his cries. You drink because it feels good and it helps you forget. It's a hedonistic pleasure like sex. Sex and drugs. Like a true rocker. But not for the same reasons.

Retroville's been quiet since Jimmy's death. Cindy Vortex is trying her hardest to live up to Jimmy's name and become the next genius, but she fails. You know nothing about Carl and Sheen because they're not in the papers. And you haven't bothered to visit and ask.

Because you're not welcome there anymore. Word got around that you're to blame. And the places you used to frequent, like the Candy Bar, shut their doors on you. People shake their heads and quietly whisper to each other. People like to accuse you of things. Like helping your son commit suicide.

But you ignore them. What do they know? They don't know what cool is. They don't know what they're talking about, so back off. You _are_ cool. You are the epitome of cool.

And right now, cool's peering into an empty beer bottle and completely drained. Because when cool's alone, cool feels like shit. You're a shitty drunk. You get depressed instead of happy. But alcohol's a depressant, so shouldn't that be how it is? And you can't forget what you want to because it's not part of your black out. Drinking doesn't erase the memories or the fact it happened. And you did nothing.

You pay the bartender and walk out into the warm yet dry night. Girls catcall when you pass and you whistle back, rocking your hips invitingly. You know how to rock their worlds. You know how to make babies. You know how to kill them too.

You want to go to the hotel, but you're not really in the mood. So you wander around, drunk off your ass and caring little. You never care. Why should you? What do you have to care about? You're reasonably young. With science today, you can live forever. Why should you care if you're slowly killing yourself?

You want a girl for the night and you get it. And another one. Because one's never enough. And they're only a few years older than Jimmy would have been. They're barely legal. But you don't care. Because this is the Hugh Neutron show, bitch, and you manage the casting and directing. You call the shots.

You're drunk again the next night and don't recognize the woman in front of you. You've been populating bars whenever you're not on tour and you assume she's a fan. But she's not. Those beautiful jade eyes; you think you knew her once. But right now, you're too drunk to tell. You think therefore you are. And you're too inebriated to form complete sentences, much less think.

"Hugh Neutron," that authoritative voice says and you find yourself replying without intending to.

"I thought we were through." Your mouth recognizes who she is before you do. It's Judy. Your ex wife. The woman you used to love.

"I...I still love you," she says. But you don't care. Because what is love but a hollow pursuit? But you have her for the night. Because love, sex, and drugs are hollow.

This is the Hugh Neutron show. And next episode, there will be another girl. There always is.

But there will never be another Jimmy Neutron.

* * *

It's Jimmy's birthday. Or, it would have been. You don't celebrate it. Should you? Should you celebrate the day your son would have turned sixteen? Should you celebrate his deathday too? Should you bow to the hypocrisy? Should you give a damn that you've fostered more kids than you know about and none of them are like _him_? 

Thankfully, none of them have starred in guest episodes yet. But they're due to because Hugh Neutron jumped the shark. You're losing popularity, replaced by the next big thing. You had more than your fifteen minutes of fame and you should be grateful it lasted that long. You should be but you're not.

Because goddamn it, Jimmy. Jimmy everywhere and nowhere at the same time. Jimmy, Jimbo, Jim-Jam, Jim-Jam-boree, Jim...they're all there and they're all backing you into a corner. You don't believe in ghosts. Therefore, this ghost shouldn't be haunting you.

"Damn it, Jimmy, why won't you die? Why must you torment me?"

But he won't leave. Not when you beg. Not even when you get on your hands and knees and plead. He's there whenever you turn your head. He's there, lurking between the teenage girls and crying your name. He's there no matter how much you hate it. No matter how much you want him to go away.

"Leave me alone! What do you want from me?"

"Dad!"

"Leave me alone, leave me alone, leave me alone! DIE, DAMN YOU!"

"Dad, help me!"

You think you're going mad, but you can't be sure. You're not sure of anything anymore. You're afraid to look outside your window and see him staring at you with those soulful eyes. You're afraid to turn on the TV and hear about Retroville. You're afraid to turn on the radio because it reminds you of him. Everything reminds you of him.

And slowly but surely, you're losing your mind. It's sweeps on the Hugh Neutron show.

* * *

You can't hear anything but him now. His voice is constantly with you and you know that you're too far gone to care whether he's dead or not. Because he won't die in your head. You can feel his presence lingering behind you and it's ruining everything you've got left. 

"Dad!"

No.

"Dad, save me!"

No. No, you won't. Because he's some stupid kid slipping on the manifold. It's not your responsibility. He's your son, but it doesn't matter.

"Dad! It's me, Jimmy!"

No, no, no. It's not. It's not, it's not, it's not. Because he's dead. He died years ago. And it's all your fault. You know that now. You know you should have done something, but you didn't. Because you were selfish and you watched him plummet. You knew it was wrong and yet...

"Dad!"

Jimmy.

"Dad, why did you let me fall?"

Because this is the Hugh Neutron show. You have no place on it. Get lost, kid.

"Dad...it's me, your son. You know, Jimmy."

Yes, you know. You've always known. And you can hear him crying. Crying your name and you scream his to the heavens. You scream, but it won't bring him back. You fall to your knees and sob because there's nothing left. You drank away your fortune. You used and abused Judy. And all you have left is Jimmy's voice.

"Dad!"

Jimmy.

"Jimmy, I'm so sorry," you whisper like it's enough. But it's never enough.

And as the credits roll, you stare at his grave. And you can't stop hearing his voice. It fades to black and all you hear, all you see, is Jimmy.

The Hugh Neutron show is filmed in front of a live studio audience. Only one child was hurt during filming. And if you close your eyes, you can hear his voice on the wind.

"Dad!"


End file.
